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based on somewhta personal experiences but not the same
Fear Is Like a Disease
Fear is like a disease that slowly eats away at you. I know; I’ve been living with it for three years now. No one understands the feeling. It is a constant whirling in ones stomach. You try to vomit, you try to crap, but nothing takes the feeling away. Wherever you go, twenty four hours a day, that bloody whirling goes with you. Eventually the sweating starts. First it only stings a bit on your forehead and in your neck, but it slowly expands. Constantly you can smell the sour stench of your own sweat and you start to disgust yourself. One day you look into the mirror and see a complete stranger. That’s when the madness starts.
I’ve been mad for quite sometime. They locked me up and fed me pills and I suppose I feel better. In any case, I am capable of remembering the source of my madness. Apparently that is a good thing - I would be too sure though.
It started at night. I lay in my bed, dreaming of an evil spirit. An evil spirit that roamed my house. I tried to vanish it with a cross, but it only mocked me. I woke up and realized that it all had been a dream. During the day I forgot about it and the following night I had no more dreams. Nor the night after that or the one after that. Until three months later, when I awoke in total fear. I was sweating heavily and my heart was pounding. THERE WAS SOMEONE IN MY ROOM. It was precisely midnight and I remember thinking “This bloody thing has a sinister sense of humour.” But that thought disappeared when I realized I could still sense it. Even with the lights turned on. Even when I was fully awake. That’s when I became certain that it was the Devil.
In a desperate attempt to rid myself of my fear, I started to pray but it didn’t accomplish a thing. IT didn’t fear “God”; it spat on him. You can’t even imagine how that made me feel. I knew it was out to torment me and that it was capable of the worst acts of horror since it knew no pity – no love no sorrow.
But for some reason it did not hurt me. It just scared the living s**t out of me and then disappeared.
After that night, it took me two weeks to be able to get some decent sleep. Every night I lay and waited for it to return to haunt me. I imagined all the thing s it could do to me: possess me, strangle me with unseen hands or drive me insane just by revealing its face. But it didn’t return for days, weeks and months – I managed to sleep once more.
About a year later the phone calls started. At night mostly. At first I thought it was a stupid joke. It started out quite harmlessly. As I answered the phone – precisely at midnight, the other person had hung up. However after a couple of weeks he got tired of that and started calling me day and night. Sometimes he still hung up, but sometimes he yelled straight into my brain. It wasn’t an ordinary yell; this went much deeper: a rattling scratching of metal. The devil had returned.
The following night, I awoke in a cold sweat again. And when I was fully awake he was trying there – in my room. I felt him and this time I heard him. A hard witch-voice. Half whispering, half screaming. I couldn’t understand the words but the voice rustled until I became mad with fear.
Hours later they found me, curled away in a corner of the room. Rocking my self continuously.
That was three years ago. I haven’t sensed the devil since then and no longer fear his return. He has completed his work on me. And even though I know with absolute certainty that he is entering your room at this very minute, I really couldn’t care less…
 xdemonicallyxyours13x · Sat Mar 31, 2007 @ 06:14pm · 1 Comments |
